A Taste of Rain on His Lips
by Moondragon
Summary: 1x2. Duo is standing in the rain and Heero watches from the window, pondering about the enigma that is Duo Maxwell.


Okay, I'm not even going to pretend that this is an original idea, cause I've read several stories where Duo is fond of rain for various reasons, mostly to do with L2's weather system. I simply fell in love with the image of Duo standing in the rain idea from the first time I came across it. I got the inspiration to this while reading the story 'Morning Tea' by Mazmaraz, which I strongly recommend. Also, for anyone interested in music, check out the band Madrugada, especially the cd 'Industrial Silence' from which the quote is taken.

The story takes place after the war. It is 1x2 from the mind of Heero, who is a bit more ooc than strictly legal. Actually, Heero is so ooc that if anyone wants they can probably just pretend it's one of the other boys…

**A Taste of Rain on His Lips**  
Moondragon

Now there's a blue, blue, strange colour blue  
Let me dream of me and you  
Oh, how the rain keeps coming down  
Pour, oh, running down the window  
Like a vein on my arm

Madrugada: Strange Colour Blue

--

He never lies. That's his motto and he follows it without fault.

He never lies, but he obscures the truth under layers of half-truths and meaningless information. He hides it away and makes you forget that you ever asked a question. You may listen to him talk, but you'll only hear what he wants you to hear. He's always in control of every conversation and he'll prove you the fool for thinking otherwise.

He never reveals more than he intends to. It's so easy to underestimate him and pretend that he is the image he presents: a foolish, loud-mouthed devil-may-care boy. It's easy to see the grin on his face and hear his laughter, thinking that you've seen all there is of him. Just another pretty face without a care in the world…

Those that underestimate him rarely live long enough to regret it.

We all carry masks; Trowa's silence and Wufei's justice, even Quatre hides away behind seemingly naivety. In our line of work it was necessary with some kind of detachment to remain sane, if any of us have any sanity left at all.

And Duo… Duo uses one mask to cover up another.

In battle he is Shinigami, the fearless God of Death, always ready to reap more souls. He is shadow and blood and laughter. He is darkness incarnated. You can see the change in his eyes, there's a small flicker of insanity present there when he lets go and becomes Death.

The rest of the time he plays the joker. He grins and laughs and makes it his life mission to annoy the rest of the world. That's the genius behind it; people are expected to hide behind silence, not behind cheerfulness. But I've seen him smile -a real smile, edgy and filled with bitterness. That's when I understood that the cheerfulness isn't just a mask, because there's nothing fake about him. It's all just different parts of him that he brings out and makes the main focus for others to see.

At night, when we are laying in a tangle of limbs and sweat, he sometimes tells me about himself. Mostly it's just little stories, the kind normal people tell each other about their life, but with him it's something to be treasured. I think he tells me because he knows I could never bring myself to ask.

He never lets anyone see him weak, mostly because he never lets himself be weak. I think he's afraid to break down because he doesn't know how to build himself up again. But mostly, I think part of him believes that if no one can see it, it isn't real. Only the parts he plays out are considered real.

I'm sitting by the window in our apartment. It's been raining all day since before I woke up this morning. Seemingly endless amounts of water continue to pour down from a dark grey sky. Standing outside in the middle of it all is Duo.

He looks beautiful, even more than usual. Face turned up towards the sky, eyes closed and hair plastered against his forehead. He looks otherworldly and the closest to any kind of godliness that I will ever see.

This isn't the first time I've seen him like this, standing outside in a rainstorm, and I doubt it'll be the last. I can never convince him to keep inside and look at the rain through the window. Instead I've resigned myself to keeping a close eye on him and making sure he gets inside before he catches a cold, even though he insists that he doesn't get sick.

Sometimes I ask him why the rain is so special to him. He answers differently every time. 'It looks beautiful.' 'Water was rare on L2 because the weather system is so expensive to run.' 'It is life in its purest form.' All of it is true, but none of it is the truth. He means everything he says, but it's not the real reason.

I keep looking at him through the glass barriers of the window. He's spinning around in slow circles, his braid smacking into his body every now and then. His eyes are still closed and the expression on his face is a mix of joyous rapture and sadness, and it is more real than any other expression I've ever seen on him. I know that he knows I'm watching him and that only makes it more special.

It's that look on his face that makes me get up and towards the door, ready to drag him inside. I don't even bother with my usual jacket, knowing that by the time I've convinced him to come inside I'll be soaked to the bone.

When I get outside it's still raining quite heavily, but thankfully it's not that cold. The ground is wet beneath my feet and I hear the squishing sound of my own shoes as I walk across the front lawn. Duo probably hears my footsteps as well, because he stops his spinning and begins to walk towards me. His smile loses a little bit of its sadness, but I know it's genuine, not because he's hiding from me.

"Hi handsome," he says and wraps his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder. I can feel the water soaking through my clothes from his, but I know from past experience that trying to form any kind of protest is useless when it comes to Duo. Besides, I don't really mind.

"You look half-drowned," I comment as my hands automatically settle around his waist, drawing circles on his skin with my thumbs.

The rain continues to fall around us and the silence stretches out between us like a comfortable blanket. I feel him smile against my neck and it makes this moment even more precious.

He pulls away from me –still staying in a loose embrace- and lifts his right hand up to my face, brushing away some stray hair. The expression on his face is one I haven't seen before and can't quite analyse.

"When I was a kid," he says quietly. "Someone once told me that rain is the tears of angels falling down on earth to purify us. I used to think that it was unfair that it wouldn't rain on L2, because who would then absolve us?" His eyes meets mine and I see that the emotion I couldn't recognize is vulnerability. He looks like the kid I suspect he never got to be. "Who would wash away our sins when even the angels couldn't?"

I feel something ache inside of me when I think of all the times he's been standing in the rain, trying to wash away his sins and guilt. I've never been good at words, so I pull him closer to me and kiss him instead. His soft lips melt against mine, strength and sweetness at the same time, and the kiss deepens. My hand finds its way from his waist and up under the thin rain-soaked T-shirt. I need him closer to me, always closer.

It's a kiss made of sadness and rain and unconditional forgiveness. It's promise and hope and sin all at once.

Amongst the rainwater running down his face there's a faint taste of salt. I suddenly understand the part he couldn't say; the rain lets him hide what he considers weakness. It lets him hide away and reveal at the same time in a way only he can do. I remember my earlier thoughts and realize that he meant for me to know. He never does anything without intending to.

The saltiness lingers on as the kiss ends. He rests his forehead against mine; sharing the same breath as I. Somehow he makes that gesture seem both sensual and intimate. The rainwater is still running in small streams on his face, over his eyelids and down his cheeks, mingling with the remains of his tears. At this moment he's more real to me then ever before.

And I keep quiet, not mentioning anything about tears or salt, knowing that he doesn't want to talk about it. It's more then enough that he lets me know.

He kisses me again, just a short touch of lips against lips, and I can't help thinking that it's his touch that's capable of washing away my sins.

I feel him shivering against me and I suddenly notice how cold it's become since I came outside. I slide my hands up and down his arms, feeling goosebumps on his skin. "Come on," I say. "Lets get you inside and warmed up in front of the fireplace."

He nods and steps away from me, beginning to walk towards the house. However, I don't feel ready to let him go just yet. I let my hand rest briefly on his shoulder before gliding down his arm and taking his hand in mine. He looks back at me surprised before his face melts into a somewhat shy smile. His hand tightens shortly in mine, letting me know that he appreciates the gesture. He never reaches out for comfort, but sometimes he accepts it anyway.

He leans against me and sighs. Slowly he turns his head, looking at me through long lashes. There's a softness in his eyes and a small upturn of his lips that's more genuine then any grin.

"I love you," he murmurs and I believe him, because he never lies.

Around us the rain has stopped falling.

--

Owari.

--

So, that was my first ever Gundam Wing fanfic. What do you lovely people think? Personally I think I was a bit to focused on describing Duo, which resulted in me forgetting that I was writing it from Heero's point of view, in other words: major ooc-ness. Anyway... I'll be forever grateful for reviews

Love and all that,  
Moondragon


End file.
